Abigail
by buggaboo1
Summary: COMPLETE. This is a dramatization of the story of Abigail. I love her story because she is a woman who is able to think for herself, and isn't afraid to use her brains even if her husband isn't using his.
1. Abigail

I've been working on sort-of a dramatization of the story of Abigail (just because I find her one of the more fascinating women in the Bible) - anyways, here is Part the First:

**Abigail**

"Oh come on, Abigail, surely it can't be as bad as that?" Miryam asked her friend as she drew the water bucket up from the well.  
"That's what you think," she replied bitterly. "Nabal. Of all people. His reputation precedes him."

"Look at the bright side - he's one of the richest men around. You could have done a lot worse."

Abigail didn't answer. Mouth pinched in a tight line, she lifted the bucket on her head and with easy, swaying steps made her way back to her parents' house.

Nabal. So what if the man owned thousands of sheep and goats?

The evening before, her parents had informed her of her soon-to-be-arranged betrothal to the man. At seventeen, it was high time for her to start a family of her own, they said. They had praised him to the heavens. "It is a good match," they said. "He is wealthy - all those sheep and goats, just think! You will be well taken care of."

What they had forgotten to mention was that he was mean as a snake, callous, ugly, and a man of very little brain. Whether it was a matter of cause and effect or prophecy, she didn't know, but word had it that his name fit him perfectly - Nabal, the Fool.

Her heart sank the first time she saw her bridegroom. _This?_ she thought. _I will spend the rest of my life with this? Oh God._ And it was a prayer and a plea._ Oh God._

At first, she thought she could not bear it. That her soul could not survive, far away from her family and friends, tied for the rest of her life to this stupid, churlish brute. She wept, those first few days. And then she dried her tears and started working on the rest of her life. She had one thing in her favor - Nabal was proud of her. Abigail, his young, beautiful wife. Young, beautiful, and smart enough to realize that if she played her cards right, she could get around stupid Nabal every time. Make him think it had been his idea, make him want what she wanted, wheedling, flattering, doing whatever it took - slowly but surely getting her way.

Though Nabal never caught on, the rest of the household watched with amusement as Abigail became a force to be reckoned with. They soon figured out that if something needed done, they would be far better off going to Abigail than to Nabal. Everyone in the household knew.

But David's men didn't.

.-.-.-.-.

Samuel had just died, the problems with Saul had calmed down, and David had finally stopped running. He and his men were biding their time out in the back country of Maon - the same place, incidentally, where Nabal's servants were grazing his sheep. Now, no one would have blamed them much for taking a sheep here and there - even warriors have to eat, don't they? But David and his men hadn't done that. No, they had actually watched over the shepherds and their flock, protecting them against enemies, both man and beast. Nothing of Nabal's had been lost.

When the news came to David that Nabal had brought all his sheep to Carmel to be sheared, he decided it was payback time. Nabal should be flush with cash, and he already had to feed a lot of people - all the shepherds and all the servants in the same place; the yearly feast as they reaped the rewards for their labors. Time to remind the man of what David had done for his servants and his herd. Even warriors have to eat, don't they?

So David gathered ten young men and sent them off.

"Go and see Nabal," he said. "Go and tell him that we have been good to him. Tell him we could've taken by force what we wanted. Instead, we looked out for what was his. Ask him to be generous now."

As they left, he looked after them. "Or else..." he muttered quietly to himself.

.-.-.-.-.

When the ten men finally came to Carmel, the smell of meat roasting on spits filled the air; bread, olives, cakes, and wineskins filled to bursting were laid out before the revellers, who were already in varying states of inebriation.

It took them a while to even find the owner of the herd. When they finally stood in front of him and stated their request, Nabal was livid. "Who's this guy who sent you? Am I supposed to know who he is?" he shouted, eyes bulging out in an angry face. "And how do I know that you're not lying? The hills are full of liars and thieves like you. Ragtag bunch of misfits. Runaway slaves. Why on God's green earth should I waste what's mine on you? Go back to whoever sent you - whatever his name is - and tell him to leave me alone. I owe you nothing."

"B-but master," one of the servants spoke up timidly, "It was as he said. They truly behaved as men of honor out there. Would it not be fair now to share some of what we have with them? We can tell you what we have heard of David - that even Saul acknowledged that he would be king after him, that he is a mighty warrior. Everyone knows who David is. Can you afford to make such a man your enemy?"

Nabal's mouth pinched shut, and his small eyes narrowed in his florid face. "Shut your mouth - who asked you in the first place? I don't know this - son of Jesse, is it? I'm not just going to hand off my hard-earned belongings to some nobodies I have never laid eyes on before. Bad enough that we have to hand over a tenth to those useless priests. No, no, you go back and tell him 'forget it'!"

And with that he turned his back to them, lifted his cup, and loudly demanded some more of the wine.

The ten young men stood there for a minute, flabbergasted. Then, as one, they turned and left Nabal's encampment.

.-.-.-.-.


	2. Setting Out

**Abigail, Part II**

The servants of Nabal looked at each other in dread. This was not good. Not good at all. Offending the future king, someone with a few hundred men at his side - bored men, spoiling for action after laying low for months - exceedingly smart move, that. But trying to talk sense into Nabal was as much an exercise in futility as trying to teach a camel how to dance. Actually, one might have more luck with the camel.

Abigail had retreated to her tent - the middle of the day was hot, and it was her custom to rest for an hour or two. Today, she had needed it more than most days - the morning had been busy with preparations, organizing for the feast. Keeping that many people plied with food and drink was not something that just took care of itself. By the time Nabal had rolled out of bed, she had been up for hours.

She closed her eyes. For just a short while, no one would want her. Nabal would be stuffed to the gills after the noon meal and would spend the rest of the afternoon and evening slowly drinking himself into a stupor.

Her thoughts drifted to topics more pleasant - the fleeces had been of excellent quality this year. Just a couple more days, and the shearing would be over. Things would return to normal, she could break camp and go home, and then... She was slowly drifting off to sleep when she became aware of the voice at the door of the tent.

"Mistress..." A strident whisper.  
Annoyed, Abigail raised herself up on one elbow. "What is it now?"   
"The master - it's an emergency..."  
With a sigh, Abigail sat up. A cursory check to see if her tunic and hair were in order. They were. "Oh, come in then, already," she called out in irritation. It seemed as if it was always something.  
The servant entered and prostrated himself on the floor.  
"Ari - so what is so important that it cannot wait for an hour? Don't just lie there, get up and speak."  
The servant raised himself to his knees. The words spilled out in a torrent, disconnected, panicky. 

Abigail listened with growing concern. "He sent them off with nothing? Does he have any idea who this David is, or what he is capable of? Even if he didn't, common decency would demand... but when has that ever been a concern?" Her voice was bitter. "But slighting David Ben-Jesse like that? Of all the ridiculous, fool-hardy things to do..."  
She jumped up. "Quick." 

Within minutes, she had the servants running off in different directions. She sent Ari off to arrange for a train of pack donkeys behind the shearing arena, well out of view, ready to load. There was plenty of bread baked - that would need to go. Wine was harder to come by - most of it was stored too close to where Nabal was sitting in drunken revelry. And it just wouldn't do if he found out. If he did, he would stop her - his pride would never let him admit he had made a mistake. Which meant David would receive nothing. And she didn't feel like dying at the hands of a ticked-off warrior just yet.

She finally found two full wineskins, and had the servants load them in the packs. Luckily, the staples where stored close by - raisins, figs, grain. Soon the donkeys were loaded to capacity. A final coup - some sheep, already dressed and drawn, ready to be put on spits for the evening meal. Softly, Abigail gave instructions to one of the shepherds to kill others for replacement. Nabal must not know.  
Finally she looked over the assembled train. It wasn't as much as she had hoped, but it would have to do. Taking Ari aside, she whispered, "You and the others go on ahead; I'll catch up with you later. There is one more thing I must do."

As Ari led the team off into the hills, Abigail returned to her tent. 

Quickly, she laid out her best clothes. A robe, dyed in rich shades of blue. An embroidered scarf, given as a present for her wedding. There wasn't time for a bath, but she quickly washed her hands and her face and did her hair. As she attached her earrings and slid the bracelets on her arms, she closed her eyes and sent up a quick prayer. "Lord, let me find favor... Give me wisdom..." 

What more could she do? She looked her best. She had done all she could. The rest would be up to David and the mercy of God. 

Squaring her shoulders, Abigail mounted her donkey and went to catch up with the rest of her group.


	3. God's Way

**Abigail Part III**

David paced back and forth in front of his tent furiously. The effrontery of that man Nabal was simply not to be borne. When his men had returned with the news that the only thing Nabal had given them was a bushel-full of insults, his blood had started to boil.

"Get ready to move," he finally told his men. _Nabal will find himself paying a much higher price than simply sharing his good fortune with us would have cost him,_ he thought angrily as he prepared for the journey. _Oh yes, he will regret this._

As they wound their way through the steep hills, his temper kept steadily rising. By the time they been on the march for a couple of hours, he was positively livid.  
"It's been absolutely no use whatsoever, watching over this man's property. Whatever happened to 'one good turn deserves another'? Is it 'one good turn deserves a bunch of name-calling' now? So God help me, by morning not one of those who belong to Nabal shall remain alive."

.-.-.-.-.

Meanwhile, Abigail had caught up with her train of donkeys and her servants. She was riding at the head of the line of animals, lost in thought, her heart beating rapidly.  
_Was this a good idea?_ She had heard horror stories of what happened to women who unexpectedly found themselves in the middle of an army. To say it was not a safe thing to do was an understatement. But what else _could_ she do? Honestly, if Nabal got killed it would not have been a great loss to the world - but how could she let everyone else in the camp pay for his stupidity? Surely those warriors would not be too fastidious in making sure only the guilty party was killed...  
No, the whole camp would be found guilty by association. And she was the only one who could stop it.

She rehearsed different apologies in her head. How could she best express her regret for what had happened? Would words and a food-offering be enough to assuage the wounded pride of the profoundly offended leader of an army of men?

As the animals clambered up the rocky mountain trails, she went over all that she knew about David in her head. What kind of man was he? What could she say that would touch his heart? _God,_ she prayed silently, over and over again,_ I need to know what words to say. Help me. Help us. _

It was then that she rounded a corner, and found herself face to face with a man in front of an army. Her mouth went dry. This was it, then. Do or die time. _God, help me._

_.-.-.-.-._

David's mouth dropped open as he rounded the large rock that jutted out into the ravine - whatever he would have expected to meet out here in the middle of nowhere, a lovely woman dressed up in her finest leading a caravan of pack animals wasn't it. While he was still gaping, the woman slid off her donkey and bowed before him in the dust, right in front of his feet. He had no choice but to stop.

Still bowing, she began to speak, rapidly, as if hoping to get out the words before being shut up. "My lord, I alone am to blame. I did not see the men that you sent. My husband is a fool, just like his name says, and you cannot hold him responsible. I beg you, forget him; don't pay attention to him. He is nothing. But please, listen to what I have to say.

"You know that the Lord our God is the giver of life. Do not turn into someone who lightly takes lives, simply for revenge. The Lord has given you life, and as you act on His behalf, in His way, may all your enemies become like Nabal - ineffective fools. I have brought you everything you see before you as a gift - will you in turn give your forgiveness?

"I know you have been offended - but do you really want that stain on your soul? The Lord will make your house a great house, because you fight the Lord's battle. Someone was trying to take your life, but the Lord protected you for his purposes. When the Lord has fulfilled all his promises to you, and you are King over Israel, you will not want to live under a burden of blood-guilt. You cannot rule with a clear conscience, as a man of God, with innocent blood on your hands. Listen to me, and do things God's way. And when God has brought you great success, please remember me, your servant."

David had grown very quiet as he listened to her talk, down at his feet. "What is your name?" he finally asked in a soft voice.

"Abigail, my lord," she answered in a whisper.

"Stand up." Hesitatingly, she rose to her feet, until she finally stood before him with downcast eyes. He swallowed hard as he looked at her. "Abigail, you have been God's gift to me today. Without your good judgment, I would have gone on a revenge-killing, and none of Nabal's men would have survived. My way, instead of God's way. I praise God that he sent you to me to stop such senseless carnage."

"So you will accept this gift?" Abigail asked quietly.

"Yes. You can rest assured that I have heard ever word you said to me. You may return home in peace."

Running his hand across his mouth and chin, David looked after her as she turned to direct the servants as they handed over the bounty to David's men. _I wonder,_ he though,_ if Nabal has any idea how close he came to losing his life today. And I wonder if he has an idea of the treasure he has in his wife._

_.-.-.-.-._

To be continued...one more installment coming up.


	4. The End of a Fool

**Abigail, Part IV **

After David left, Abigail and her servants turned around and returned to camp.  
They could hear the party before they could see it. Someone was beating the tambourine; shrieks and laughter echoed through the valley.

When they arrived back among the tents, Abigail went to find Nabal. Her eyes narrowed when she finally spotted him. He was sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of the fire, holding a wine-skin up in the air with one hand to pour the last dregs out of it. Only half the wine ended up in his mouth; the rest splashed over his face and garments. His face flushed from the heat of the fire and the wine, he beat along to the rhythm of the tambourine with his other hand, slurring his words as he talked, his eyes bloodshot and watery from too much alcohol. As he put down the wineskin, he stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth, and Abigail saw the crumbs flying as he laughed uproariously at a joke the man next to him had made.

With a sigh, she turned away - no use talking to the man right now. He wouldn't remember a word she said in his present condition anyways. No, better to wait till morning.

.-.-.-.

The next morning, Abigail rose early and set about getting yesterday's mess cleaned away. By ten, the remainders of the excesses of the evening before were for the most part gone. She directed the servants as to the last tasks that still needed to be completed, washed her hands, and walked back to Nabal's tent, carrying a bowl of clean water. The state he had been in last night, she would need it.

When she entered, he was lying on the bed-mat, groaning and holding his head.  
As the morning light fell through the lifted entrance flap and hit his face, he winced piteously as he closed his eyes and turned his face away. "Shut that thing, will you? Oh, my head..."

"Lie down." She pushed him back onto the bed mat, and dipped a cloth into the cold water. "Here, wash your face." He had fallen into bed in the same clothes that he had worn the night before, and the sour smell of unwashed body and stale wine wafted through the air of the chamber.

Abigail walked over to a cedar chest along the wall, and pulled out a fresh tunic and undergarment. "You should put this on."

Nabal had sunk back and placed the wet folded-up cloth over his eyes. "I don't feel so good," he whispered.

"Well, be glad you can feel anything at all," Abigail said in a hard voice.

Nabal took the cloth off his eyes and looked at her, perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"Yesterday, David and his army came within an hour of us, and from what I could make out, it seems he was quite set on wiping out the entire camp," she said matter-of-factly, her lips closing into a tight line. "That's all."

Nabal sat up in bed, holding a hand to his forehead. "David? Kill us?"

"Well, what did you expect?" she asked as she sat back on her heels. "After the way you treated him?"

"The way I...? What...? How come he didn't...?" Nabal sputtered, trying to make sense of the story.

"I went out and gave him all the food and drink I could gather on short notice, and groveled in the dirt for forgiveness. Luckily he decided to show us leniency, or we would all be dead by now."

Nabal's face was turning alarmingly red again, and his chest was rising in quick, angry breaths. "HOW DARE YOU? How dare you go behind my back like that? I am Nabal - everyone knows me. The richest man in the area. That presumptuous young upstart, acting like the world owes him a living - he wouldn't have had the guts to attack us. You ungrateful...giving away my belongings...of all the..."

Suddenly, Nabal's face turned chalky white, and his hand went to his chest as he drew a shuddering breath. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead as Abigail watched in alarm. A strangled moan escaped him as his eyes grew glassy, and he collapsed on his bed, falling over limply.

.-.-.-.-.

He never woke up. For ten days, Abigail cared for him, but he never regained consciousness, and on the tenth day in the evening, he drew a last rattling breath and then his heart stopped for good.

_It's odd_, she thought as she looked at his lifeless body._ I never loved him. I didn't even like him. And yet, I have taken care of him for so long - it seems strange to think that he is gone..._

What, she wondered, would become of her? She had no son to inherit his father's wealth. There would be a battle among his relatives, Nabal's possessions split up and distributed. Would anyone remember to provide for her? Nabal had no brother who would feel obligated to marry her. Maybe another relative? Well, there were worse things than returning home to her father's house, she supposed...

It felt strange and disloyal that at that moment the image of David rose in front of her eyes. She chased it away in irritation. No use to daydream. The mourners and neighbors would arrive soon, and there was so much to do. For the next week, she would not have a minute to herself.

She got up, tired from the long wake by his sickbed, feeling worn out and tired and teary. What would become of her?

It didn't take long for word to get around. After all, everyone knew Nabal, the richest man in the area.

David heard, too. "So Nabal got his just desserts," he said quietly to himself. He chuckled ruefully. "God did fight that battle for me, didn't he? Just like Abigail said. And to think I almost defiled myself with innocent blood over that old Fool's insults."

It was Abigail who had stopped him. Not one of his men had spoken up and dared to tell him that the direction he was headed in would lead to anguish and blood-guilt. Not even his closest advisors had let him know that he was wrong. It had fallen to her, a woman, the wife of his enemy, to speak truth to him - truth dressed up to go down easy, but truth none the less.  
In his mind's eye, he saw Abigail's face, and he smiled. Where would he find another woman like that - beautiful, courageous, and bright? And he knew what he would do.  
When the customary waiting period for a widow was over, David sent for his servants. "Go back to Carmel. Do you remember her who was the wife of Nabal? Find her. Tell her I want her for my wife."

Abigail was sitting at the loom, sending the shuttle back and forth across the warp with easy, practiced rhythm. She rose and bowed as the strange men entered the room.  
"Are you Abigail, the widow of Nabal?"

"Yes," she answered, a puzzled look on her face. "I am?"

"We have come with a message for you. Our master is David, the son of Jesse. He asked us to tell you that he remembers the day he met you fondly and with gratitude. It is his desire to marry you. We are to take you back to him to become his wife, if you are willing."

For a moment, Abigail stopped breathing. _Could this be true? _It didn't seem like it could be real...

Then she bowed down, her face to the ground, hiding the smile that she couldn't hold back. "I _am_ willing. I will go anywhere you want me to. I am willing to serve you, any which way I can."

They bade her rise, and she wasted no time. She gathered a few of her belongings and her most trusted servants and got on her donkey. There was nothing to hold her in Carmel. She turned around once and looked back, right before the settlement disappeared behind the ridge of the hill. Her old life, gone now. She would not miss it. Resolutely, she turned around and urged her donkey forward.

Her heart started beating loudly as they drew near David's encampment. The nightmare of the previous year at last was over. She smiled as she pictured David: handsome, strong, a man of God. Soon now, she would see him. Her husband to be. She, the wife of a fool, would be the wife of the next king of Israel. The smile grew bigger. Truly, the Lord works in mysterious ways.

* * *

This was the final installment of the Abigail series - hope you enjoyed it! 


End file.
